Chapter 51
FIFTY-ONE
GEMMA
“Miss Crowne.” His lips curved leonine, eyes on my hand wrapped around his. “I wasn’t planning on staying long.” As much as I wanted to drop my hold at his lecherous gaze, I knew it was leverage.
So I stepped closer, turning my voice into something sultry. “Without visiting the maze?”
“I got what I wanted. My son will finally accept his role.”
So Grim had at least found him then… Something must have gone awry, because he clearly wasn’t in the maze.
“You sure? I have questions.” I trailed my hand up his arm, adding, “But not here. Somewhere…private.”
His voice lowered into a sickening sound. “Lead the way.”
Something in his eyes nearly stopped me. My gut screamed a warning. But I couldn’t just let him go. Not when we were so close.
So I ignored it, enclosing his arm in mine, leading him away from the party, toward the maze.
“Why did you come into my world?”
“You have what I want.” I glanced at him, and he added, “My son.”
We were nearing the entrance of the hedge maze. I steered him so he couldn’t see Grim and Lock waiting on the periphery. As I turned Vander away, I caught Grim’s gaze burning with fear and fury.
“I thought you wanted me,” I fake pouted. “You made my mom think you wanted to marry me.”
“Can’t I kill two birds with one stone?”
We arrived near the hedge’s arched, dark leaf entrance. Subtle, glowing orbs floated fae-like inside. I felt my ability to pretend slipping.
“I know your type,” I said. “You need to collect and own. You wanted to collect a shiny Gemma Crowne. You don’t care about Grim.”
He laughed. “I never said I did. This is his birthright.”
“Why won’t you just let them go?”
“I let them go. You’re the reason they stayed. Why won’t you let them go?”
Anger bubbled up, and I unraveled my arm from his. I could practically picture my mother saying the exact same thing. It was my birthright to be a Crowne, nothing else mattered.
“You’re disgusting,” I said.
Another laugh. “Couldn’t even keep the mask up long enough to get me in the maze? You have changed.”
Dread drenched my veins cold. Everything blurred with adrenaline. My heartbeat pounded painfully in my head. No. I refused to believe it.
“What?” I said. “What do you mean—”
Pop.
The first pop came and lingered, and for a moment I thought I’d imagined it.
Then they came rapid-fire.
Pop. Pop. Pop—
I was on my back with a thud that took my breath away before the third pop, pressed into the sand—Grim.
Sharp screams shattered around us like broken glass. Glitterati rushed out of the maze, Wraith and Raze not long behind them, shooting behind them at an unseen enemy. The prince looked down at Grim, then at the hedge maze, and without another word, disappeared into the chaos.
No.
No.
I watched him disappear into the glitterati stampede.
“Gemma.” Grim snatched my chin. Eyes roaming my body, my neck, looking for any sign of injury. I tried to focus through all the screams and buzzing in my chest to remember his clenched jaw, his flared nostrils, and the deep, aching fear and vicious rage in his dark eyes.
His shoulders visibly relaxed when he found me intact.
Grim shouted furious orders, but I couldn’t quite catch them. I only saw things. Like the way the muscle in his jaw flexed with each order.
Or how his biceps caged my head.
How his eyes kept darting back to me, brow furrowed.
This close I saw the shadow sharpening his jaw, the softness on his lips, the scar on his upper lip.
The pops became few and far between, ending with one that sounded far away.
Grim still pressed me deep into the sand, and I felt warm. Safe. He lifted up a little bit, giving me air, and I saw his shoulder had darkened with something wet.
I touched his shoulder and he grimaced. My hand came away painted red.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
“Wraith!” Grim yelled, ignoring me, and the smoke in his voice choked. Footsteps muted by the sand landed next to my head.
“We got most of them,” Wraith said, eyes on the horizon.
“He’s hurt,” I said. Desperation clawed at my throat.
“Did you go and get yourself shot?” Wraith bent down, his brow furrowing.
“It’s nothing. Who the fuck was it?”
I thought to what Vander had said.
“He knew,” I said, despair twisting my voice into something foreign. “He figured it out.”
“Gemma?” Grayson’s frantic voice cut through the air. “Gemma, where are you?” Moments later, he landed next to the Horsemen. “Gemma, are you okay? Is she okay?”
“I’m fine. Grim is the one who is hurt.” I pushed gently at Grim, trying to free myself. “He needs a doctor.”
Grim seemed reluctant to let me go, still holding me in that fierce, protective grip. But as I pushed, he slowly released. He climbed off me and held out a hand, still scanning the horizon, his entire body tense, as if waiting for a threat.
I took his hand and hopped to my feet.
Wraith, Lock, and Raze made a wall blocking the hedge’s entrance. My brother stood to the side, worry storming in his blue eyes. They all seemed fine. Tense, but not hurt.
I waited for Grayson to yell, to be (rightfully) mad at the danger I’d put his family in, to demand I move back in.
“How many bodies are back there?” Grayson asked, turning his attention to the Horsemen.
Lock rubbed the back of his neck. “I got two.”
“I got three,” Raze said.
“Bullshit—” Lock started.
“Five,” Wraith said, cutting them off.
Grayson nodded slowly, thinking. “I can’t stop anyone at the party from calling the police.”
“Buy us an hour and it won’t be a problem,” Wraith said. “We’ll clean up and you can say it was fireworks gone bad.”
Grayson nodded. “I can do that.”
“Grim needs to see a doctor!” I blurted. The urgency bubbled up inside me. Grim was shot. How could they sit and discuss cleanup like trying to coordinate a carpool?
Everyone turned to him, and Grim shook his head. “It was through and through.”
“Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it…” Grayson’s gaze lingered on mine.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked as he was about to leave. “Why are you helping them?”
“I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing it for you, Gemma.” He paused. “Story wanted me to tell you that you still have to be Sonnet’s godmother. Whatever happens.”
With that, Grayson left.
Realization settled heavy in my blood. This was our last chance, and we blew it.
“We can still go and catch him,” I said.
Grim turned to the Horsemen. “One hour.”
“Stop fucking ignoring me!” My scream pierced the night. “We can’t just let him go!”
In response, Grim dragged me to him, pinning me against his chest even with a bullet wound.
“We have to go,” I insisted. “We have to find him.”
Grim massaged his hand in my hair, rubbing my scalp, soothing me. He ever so softly pressed at my skull, fingering for bruises. I knew he was trying to calm me, take my mind off the very real fact that we had lost. Even still, I melted.
Grim looked over my head at the Horsemen, exchanging a silent conversation, and then they left.
We were alone on the beach.
Grim rubbed my back. Gentle. Soothing me, even though I wasn’t the one with a gunshot.
We have to go.
We have to go.
“You need a doctor,” I mumbled against his chest.
Grim pulled back just enough so I could see his eyes, which were a heady mix of fire and ash, like a phoenix rising. Burning. Smoldering. Finality in the dark depths.
This was not Grim, this was the Reaper.
Now I had goose bumps.
Now I couldn’t breathe.
When strangers had tried to kill me, I was bored. With that look in Grim’s eyes?
Fucking terrified.
Grim gripped the back of my neck, dragging me to him. “I need you.”